Kolya, el nombre de la esperanza

What is a man to do who has resisted marriage until late middle age but then enters into a fraudulent marriage of convenience and ends up solely responsible for a five year old in the bargain? That is Franta Louka's dilemma in this beautiful film.

Louka, played by Zdenek Sverak who also wrote the screenplay, is a onetime philharmonic cellist who has lost his orchestra job because the Soviet era Czech communist powers-that-be deem him unreliable. As a consequence Louka has been reduced to playing at weddings and funerals and re-gilding cemetery tombstones. He has no car and is deeply in debt. In order to finance a car and reduce his debt Louka lets a coworker from the cemetery convince him to marry a Russian woman so that she can emigrate to the West. Louka reluctantly agrees and married the woman but the Russian decamps. This ultimately results in Louka becoming solely responsible for the woman's five year old boy -- who only speaks Russian.

Louka and the little boy's relationship is both believable and moving. "Kolya" is very nearly a great film. Highly, highly recommended. 9 out of 10.

This is a variation on the theme of an older man whose emotional life is reawakened by his being thrust into unexpected parenting of a young child. Many have complained of the exploitation of such time-worn subject matter, but the worth of "Kolya" lies in the particulars of how its themes are developed. After all there are still good movies made about underdog sports teams prevailing, and even the exact same material (thinking Shakespeare here) can be made fresh through different productions.

The man in question here is Frantisek Louka, the place is the Czech Republic, and the time is 1988 (just prior to the "Velvet Revolution"). Financial constraints tempt Louka to enter into a bargain to marry a Russian woman so she can get Czech citizenship and, it turns out, escape to West Germany to be with her lover. This leaves Louka to care for the child "Kolya." One thing that makes this movie stand out is the quality of the acting by all involved. In particular Andrei Chalimon as the Russian child is very natural and will win your heart as he does Louka's. But it's a slow process.

Another thing that sets this off is the political backdrop. I knew about Russia's occupation of the Czech Republic after World War II and the non-violent overthrow of the Communist government in 1989, but that is about as far as my knowledge went. This movie portrays what it was like to live in that environment in a concrete way that a history book cannot. A lot of little scenes exemplify the underlying tensions, such as Louka's being expected to display both the Czech and Russian flags in his window, Louka's mother refusing to let some Russian soldiers in to wash their hands by lying about her having no water, and Louka's purposeful refusal to learn the Russian language. So, this movie provided a small increment in my knowledge of Czech history and that's better than nothing. How the political situation drives the action makes for a singularly interesting story.

The musical score that contains works by the Czech composers Dvořák, Suk, Fibich, and Smetana adds a special quality.

Don't be turned away from seeing this because it touches on familiar themes; it is a quality film with unique characteristics.

Take the old formula of two mismatched people being forced to live together, and rejuvenate it by losing the cliches and adding excellent script and direction, and utterly superb acting by all the cast, especially the two leads (the grouch and the boy). The characterisations are just spot on.

Whenever I see films like this I end up both very glad to have seen such an outstanding movie, and extremely irritated that practically no-one knows about this gem of a movie, yet films like 'Godzilla' rake in money.

My thanks to all involved with this movie; you have produced a work of art.

Who knows what you will do when your back is against the wall? Survival makes you do some things that you would never try. In this case Louka (Zdenek Sverák), a confirmed bachelor, marries a Russian woman to get her Czech papers and to get him some money to buy a car and fix his house and pay some debts.

As soon as they marry, she heads to Germany. her son, Kolja (Andrei Chalimon), a little five-year-old, ends up with Louka, who soon finds that he is bonding with the boy.

It is a beautifully touching story with some outstanding performances by the two leads and Libuse Safránková as Klara.

It is fascinating that star and writer of the screenplay is also the father of the director. I cannot imagine how that worker, but I bet it was interesting at times.

I did not think this film was at all sentimental (if you are using the word in its pejorative sense). In reading the comments on this film, I noticed the Czechs who responded were rather lukewarm about it. This surprises me. Kolya works as a film on several levels at once -- political, artistic, personal, etc. and I do not think it is at all predictable. The performances are magical and the entire film is encased by music of very great beauty and humanity by Dvorak and other great Czech composers. Music from Dvorak's "Four Biblical Songs" is at the heart of the film. It is the song that Klara sings at the funerals and the song Kolya is singing before and during the closing credits. The vintage film footage of Kubelik conducting Smetana's Ma Vlast at a concert at the end of the Russian occupation is a wonderful touch. Although I'm sure many other Czech films deserve Oscars, I am glad Kolya was recognized. I hope this film is released on DVD soon.